


The Brandless Exalt

by TRCelyne



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: And suffering, Angst, Bad Future Timeline (Fire Emblem), Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Exalt Lissa, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Lissa Centered POV, Lissa Wields Falchion, Lissa adopts twelve children, Naga's Light, Suicidal Thoughts, lucigo if you squint your eyes so I didn't tag it, some sparks of fluff here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18091256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRCelyne/pseuds/TRCelyne
Summary: From that day on, Lissa always carried Falchion strapped to her back. Ricken was worried it might hurt her shoulders, but she didn’t care. The Shepherds counted on her. Her people was counting on her. Her niece, although too young to cry her parent’s loss, always looked at her with hope and fear in her eyes. Each time her gaze set on Lucina, Lissa wanted to throw up. She was Chrom’s spitting image, but had Robin’s eyes. She had to endure this for her sake. For the sake of her baby brother who cried for his mother’s warmth at night. For her own son, who wondered where his uncle and aunt had gone, and if they were going to come back home soon.





	The Brandless Exalt

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to TheGalaxianPersona for his support and feedback on this heartbreaking thing. Maybe I am indeed Grima in disguise. Also my apologies in advance, Eva.

“I beg you, Frederick, please. Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry, Milady…”

 

The knight squeezed his eyes shut, his lips pinched so hard they had turned white. In his trembling hands, Falchion, that he was holding out to her, wrapped in her brother’s bloodstained cape. He had bet his life on that sword, and there was no doubt that his only mission had been to bring the regalia back to the castle safely.

 

“Frederick…” Lissa begged, her voice breaking into a strangled sob.

 

The man lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes now full of tears that somehow never rolled down his cheeks. He unwrapped the sword and unsheathed it. The blade was clean, shining under the candle lights. Lissa brought a hand to her lips. She felt her chest imploding, chasing the air out of her lungs and squeezing her heart so tight it was unbearable.

 

“Frederick, no. No. No. No, I beg you. _Please_.” She pleaded again as the man rose to his feet.

“Don’t…” He took a deep breath “Please don’t make it harder than it already is, Milady.”

“I can’t…! You know I can’t wield that sword! I _can’t_ be the Exalt!!”

“Our laws do say that Lucina is to be the new Exalt.” His voice trembled but he kept his composure “Alas she is still but a mere toddler. You shall assume the regency until she can take the throne…”

She desperately tried to wipe the tears away from her cheeks, but they always kept coming back “I can’t! I can’t! I’m not made to reign, Frederick!”

 

The knight walked closer and she took a step back in despair. But she knew. She knew she had no other choice. Even after she grew up to be of age, she could not let her three years old niece become the Exalt in this collapsing world.

 

“What about Robin? She might be alive somewhere!!” She tried as a last attempt.

The man shook his head “We only found her coat next to… to Milord’s body.”

“Then-“

“Lissa. Even if she were alive, the Queen is _missing_.” He grunted, as if the words burned his throat “You are the last one we can turn to.”

 

The young woman fell to her knees, her breath getting lost in strangled sobs and her face drenched in tears. What would she do without her beloved siblings? Without her sister-in-law? How could she even lead Ylisse without watching it crumble like broken porcelain? Her sister’s work for peace, vanishing into thin air. She was not cut out for this.

 

She did not stop Frederick when he tapped her left shoulder, then her right with the tip of Falchion solemnly.

 

“I, Frederick, member of the Shepherds and personal retainer of the Exalted family, shall name you, Lissa, member of the Shepherds and heir to the Ylissean throne, until her highness Lucina comes of age, Exalt of the Halidom of Ylisse.”

 

\--

 

From that day on, Lissa always carried Falchion strapped to her back. Ricken was worried it might hurt her shoulders, but she didn’t care. The Shepherds counted on her. Her people was counting on her. Her niece, although too young to cry her parent’s loss, always looked at her with hope and fear in her eyes. Each time her gaze set on Lucina, Lissa wanted to throw up. She was Chrom’s spitting image, but had Robin’s eyes. She had to endure this for her sake. For the sake of her baby brother who cried for his mother’s warmth at night. For her own son, who wondered where his uncle and aunt had gone, and if they were going to come back home soon.

 

From that day on, she cried herself to sleep every night. Even Ricken’s reassuring arms around her couldn’t ease the crushing pain that broke her ribs from the inside. She kept on losing the ones she loved, and she felt helpless. Maybe Naga was abandoning them to their doomed fate.

 

From that day on, she stopped training with axes, and picked up the sword instead. Frederick and Lon’qu were hard teachers, but she quickly got the hang of it. Maybe some part of her had been made to carry a blade instead of staves and tomes. Her exalted blood, maybe? Who knew, Emmeryn had most likely been able to wield Falchion, but since it had been against her principles, she had probably kept the divine sword for her little brother. There was no way to know now. She could only carry on, because that was what they would have wanted her to do.

 

But gods did she want to drop that cursed sword and run away.

 

She hated that thought. It was cowardice. And she had not been raised to be a coward. She had three children to take care of, and a country to save.

 

\--

 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Milady?”

“Yes, Frederick.”

 

The knight looked at the Exalt through the mirror’s reflection. He watched her take off Emmeryn’s cape, and waited for her to give him the garment.

 

“Lucina always carries Chrom’s signet ring around her neck. Morgan can’t sleep without Robin’s coat nearby. I wish to have my brother and sister by my side as well.” Lissa said, an unusual strength in her eyes.

“It will personally take care of it.” He replied.

She smiled, a rare sight in these dark days “I wonder what I would become without you, Frederick.”

 

\--

 

Emmeryn’s cape had been rearranged to fit her, and to be more close-fitting. It still gave her enough room to move and did not get in her way when she trained in the courtyard. She also wore Chrom’s shoulder piece, the metal reforged so it would wrap correctly around her shoulder, which was way smaller than her late brother’s. She still carried Falchion on her back, although she still wasn’t able to use it. The sword was heavy in her hands. She could barely lift it, its tip always lying in the dirt despite how much strength she put into it. Lon’qu had said she had to adapt her fighting style: Chrom could use it as a one-handed sword, but she lacked the strength to do the same. She had to think of it as a broadsword.

 

When she asked Frederick how he had managed to lift it to dub her regent back then, he told her that he had actually used all his strength and both of his hands to do so. However, he wouldn’t have been able to cut anything with it, for the blade seemed to be dull in the hands of the ones who did not bear the Brand of the Exalt.

 

How could she even use that sword, then? Her, the brandless Exalt?

 

Sometimes, she glanced at Ricken, who often stood in a corner of the courtyard to teach Morgan the use of magic. He was only seven, but there was no doubt that – like his mother – he had a gift for it. He was improving faster at magic than she ever had.

 

Owain and Lucina were improving fast too. At the age of ten, Lucina was already able to defeat a man alone. She often gave Frederick and Lon’qu a hard time during training. Her son, on the other hand, kept yelling weird attack names and such, but was still growing to be a good fighter. He seemed to copy a lot of the Chon’sinese man’s techniques and make them his own.

 

She wished they grew up in a world where they wouldn’t have to learn how to use a sword.

 

\--

 

Her friends kept on falling, irremediably, one by one, at the claws of Grima. And one by one, she welcomed their orphaned children into the castle’s walls, for it was all she had to offer them. Finding Nah had been a hard task. Nowi and Stahl had fallen long ago, but she had not managed to get hold of the child. When she found her, in a village nearby the sea, she looked like she had lost her will to live. She was terse with words and stayed alone most of the time, but she seemed to grow fond of Morgan with time. Soon enough, one could not be seen without the other.

 

She thought she would get used to death. Get used to losing her friends, to watch them go and never come back. Get used to Frederick’s sorry face whenever he brought back bad news. Get used to the cries of their children as they crossed the gates of the castle.

 

She never did.

 

Their cries haunted her like ghosts. At this rate, she’d even prefer seeing the ghosts of her fallen friends themselves rather than the pain and sorrow she saw in these children’s eyes. She wished she could bring a smile back on their faces, to give them back their spark of innocence.

 

When was the last time Lucina had smiled?

 

\--

 

She wasn’t even sure if she felt desire anymore. Sometimes, she craved Ricken’s skin against hers just to have the sensation of being alive. The warmth of his chest pressed against hers, their breaths mixing up, the electricity running up her spine when he touched her; it made her forget about the pain, about the world. He reminded her that, as strong as she had to be, she was still a human being. That he was there, for her. With her. For better and for worse.

 

Whenever she watched his eyes close and his mouth half-open in ecstasy, she remembered. She remembered the first time he had given her roses for Heartsgiving. She remembered the countless hours they had spent as children playing with butterflies under the buddleia, in the castle’s garden. She remembered how much she loved him, how grateful she was to Naga for having him in her life, and for not having taken him away. He was, with Owain, the last string of her sanity.

 

Whenever she felt his muscles tense and his skin shiver under her touch, she wondered. She wondered what the point of fighting was. She wondered, guiltily, if someone was dying while she was busy making love with her husband. If there was still love to make.

 

Whenever she felt their bodies joined together as one, she forgot. She forgot about the past, about the future, about that shoulder piece laying on the ground and that godforsaken sword against the chair, near the desk. She forgot about being the Exalt, about being the pillar everyone had to lean on.

 

Whenever Ricken’s lips pressed against hers, she was only Lissa.

 

\--

 

They couldn’t manage to find all the gemstones for the Fire Emblem. Nah prayed everyday for Naga’s help, begging her for hints, answers, anything that could help them in their quest. But she never got answers. Maybe she had abandoned them.

 

These gods were seriously getting on her nerves.

 

Lucina trained relentlessly everyday, until exhaustion. Her brother often advised her to not overdo herself, but she rarely listened to him. Brady had knocked her out with his staff once, to make sure she’d stop moving about. She stayed mad at him for an entire week after that.

 

Owain had found a friend in Cynthia. Although she had troubles understanding their shenanigans and their Justice Cabal thing, it was good to watch the bonds forming between all the children. They were the future of Ylisse, if there was to be one. She wanted to make sure, before she fell at the hands of Grima herself, that they had a way to save their lives, if not this world. If only Naga would answer them.

 

Morgan was growing stronger everyday. He had even mastered the use of Ignis, and she had caught the teenager floating around the courtyard while using that skill once. Lissa was certain he was worthy of Falchion like his sister. His abilities in swordfighting were not as good as Lucina’s, but he had nothing to be ashamed of.

 

With Lon’qu now gone, their training had been left to Frederick only. He taught them without fail, helping them mastering the use of their swords, lances and axes in hope he would have nothing left to teach soon. He even helped Noire figure out archery while not being an expert at it himself. Lissa probably wouldn’t have accomplished anything without him. He was the best friend and advisor she ever had.

 

\--

 

Sometimes, Lucina would knock at her door in the middle of the night. She would let her in, and sit up in her bed while the young girl lied down next to her, her arms wrapped around her waist and her face buried in her stomach. She was the closest person she could look up to as a mother figure, so she indulged her in her need of reassurance and cuddles. She couldn’t even remember her parents’ faces, the only trace of them being some items brought back from the battlefield and a half-torn portrait of them in the throne room, both smiling brightly and Chrom’s hand resting on his wife’s round belly.

 

Lissa always ran her hands in her blue hair until she passed out from tiredness. When Lucina was coming over to sleep, Ricken always left due to the lack of space in their bed. He would kiss Lissa gently, then peck Lucina’s temple, and leave for the library. There is always a new book to read, he used to say. She always found him the following morning, sleeping soundly on his open tome, sheltered behind piles of books. As far as she could remember, he always fell asleep on his books after a while. As a child, she had often teased him about how the ink would transfer to his cheek someday.

 

When it wasn’t Lucina, it was either Owain or Morgan. Morgan never stayed long. He would just sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the blue tapestry in front of him, the embroidered Brand of the Exalt mirroring the one on the nape of his neck. He asked for stories about his parents: how they met, how they got married, how they behaved with people and with Lucina. Lissa always told him the truth, cupping his cheek and watching the brown of his eyes with unconcealed fondness. Whenever she looked at him, she saw Robin. The same spark of mischief in his gaze, the same ability to analyse a situation even under pressure, the same altruism and need to protect everyone, even at the cost of his own life.

The same Mark, on his left hand.

 

But he was also a teenager. Out of all the children, he was the most carefree. Well, carefree was not an accurate description. He only wanted to enjoy what was left to enjoy, sprinkling his daily life with tiny sparks of happiness. He told her about how predictable he felt around Nah. About how when she smiled at him – a sight even rarer than Naga’s Bell – he felt weak and strong at the same time. He told her about how he managed to brush Cynthia’s hair without hurting her. About how he poked Severa’s ribs just for the fun of it. He still gave everyone flowers for Heartsgiving, although they had stopped holding the festival a long time ago.

 

Whenever he told her his stories, she saw herself in his place. She remembered the times when she had been his age and hiding frogs in Robin’s bed. When she piled up pebbles on Stahl’s head when he was asleep. How she replaced Gaius’ cinnamon powder with clove powder and watched him make faces at the taste afterwards.

She missed being the cheerful goofball of the Shepherds.

 

\--

 

Nah prayed relentlessly. Lissa remembered how calloused Libra’s knees were. If she kept on doing this, she might even set a new record. Sometimes, she went days without sleeping or eating, too absorbed in her trance.

Lissa wished she wouldn’t endure all of that. But Nah was, since Tiki’s death, the new Voice of Naga. She took her role seriously. Maybe too seriously. Most of the time, Morgan stayed in the same room, in a corner, to keep an eye on her and read some book about tactics. He was also the one who brought her food and knelt next to her when, on the verge of collapsing, she needed a shoulder to rest her head on.

 

Like flowers in the burning ashes, loved blossomed in the strangest places.

 

\--

 

Risen started to come in larger waves. They were getting stronger, also. Ylisstol had already been half destroyed, as well as the eastern part of the castle. They didn’t have the time to rebuild anything. Lissa set out one night, in hope that there were survivors in the villages surrounding the capital. She didn’t have much hope, but it was still worth a shot.

 

She hadn’t expected that attack while marching through the forest, the darkness around them making it harder to spot the Risen between the trees. They had managed to retreat to some sort of clearing, where they would have more space to fight. Most of the bodies were of Great Knights. She recognised their armours easily, for they were similar to Frederick’s. The fight was hard. So hard, she was starting to lose herself to panic. But she trusted Morgan and his abilities.

 

She heard Lucina scream. Her niece had fallen to the ground, a large cut on her left arm and her sword laying at her feet. In front of her, the Risen lifted its axe with a mix of a growl and a shriek.

 

The next second, Lissa had got in between. Far in the distance, she heard Ricken and Owain yell, but she couldn’t focus on it. There was nothing on her mind but the primal need to save her family. Light suddenly emerged from the ground, blinding the monster temporarily, before gathering under her skin and making feel like she weighed nothing. She felt her hair floating around her face; it was shining like sunlight, filled with gold.

 

Naga’s Light.

 

She was worthy, her, the brandless Exalt.

 

Lissa grabbed Falchion at her back and slayed the Risen in two well placed strikes. The creature fell to its knees, and vanished into the air before it could collapse to the ground. Her hair went back to its original colour and graciously fell back down on her shoulders.

 

The sword weighed nothing in her hands.

 

“Aunt… Lissa…” Lucina whispered behind her.

The Exalt turned around, her eyes settling or her niece’s relieved face, before drifting back to the regalia she was holding with both hands “Stand up, Lucina. We have people to save.”

 

However, her outburst of confidence didn’t last long.

 

They had killed most of the Risen, and she had allowed herself to relax for a second. She shouldn’t have let her guard down. From the corner of the eye, she saw a glint of moonlight on a blade, behind her husband. Her eyes widened.

 

“RICKEN! BEHIND Y-“

 

But it was too late. The sword had lodged in the man’s side, halfway through his body, and an inhuman scream escaped his throat. He then fell to his knees, his gaze unfocused, and collapsed on his side. His body made no sound but a soft thud when it touched the grass.

 

And the world stopped moving.

 

Owain ran past her, howling like an enraged beast as he cut off the Risen’s head in a single move. But she didn’t see him. She ran towards Ricken, tripping on her feet more than once and knelt beside him. His breath was weak. There was blood. Gods, there was _so much blood_ pouring out of him, staining his beautiful blue cape in dark red. He was breathing feebly, his eyes rolling back and his head heavy when she pushed him on his back. Brady was at their side the next second, and she snatched his staff to use it on him, muttering prayers under her breath.

 

“Please please _please_ Ricken!! Don’t leave me! Ricken!!” She begged, her vision blurred by the tears and the soft blue light that shone from the rod.

“…Aunt Lissa… I think it’s…” Brady mumbled, as if the words didn’t dare go past his mouth.

“No, no, no, no, it can’t be. I won’t let him go!!” She whined as she finished her spell.

 

The wound had partially closed, but it was obvious he had already lost too much blood.

 

“Lissa…” She heard him whisper.

She instantly cradled him in her arms and cupped his cheek “I’m here, Ricken, I’m here.” Some of her tears fell on his face, but he did not react “Please, _please_ , don’t leave me alone. I beg you.”

He smiled weakly “Is it an appropriate time to beg…?”

“Idiot.” She replied, resting her forehead against his “I’ve healed you, you’re going to be fine. We’re going back to the castle, together. Okay?”

“Look… at me…Lissa…” he wheezed.

 

She lifted her head just enough to see him smile tenderly, lovingly at her, like he saw the sun for the last time. He brought his hand to her face and wiped some of her tears away, smudging them with the blood he had on his fingers.

 

“Please… Smile for me, one last time…” He exhaled.

She did so, her lips trembling and tears rolling down her cheeks inexorably “I love you, you know that? Right?”

“I love you… too…”

 

He closed his eyes for the last time, as his hand dropped on his bloodstained stomach.

 

Lissa held his lifeless body close to her chest, and tilted her head back to scream again and again until her voice broke, until she was certain that Grima could hear it from the depths of the Plegian desert.

 

\--

 

Everything felt numb.

 

She was an empty shell. A ghost of a woman who had lost the man she loved the most. She couldn’t even say if her hair was blond or white, at this rate. She couldn’t even care less, anyway.

 

Ricken was gone.

 

He would never come back.

 

She had gone berserk and destroyed all the furniture in her bedroom, crying and screaming and _gods_ , _why didn’t the pain stop_. The only person who had managed to stop her was Frederick. He had wrapped his strong arms around her body and squeezed until she stopped struggling against his chest. Both had cried for long minutes, until she passed out from exhaustion. From that day on, she slept in her son’s bed.

 

Owain was not even sixteen yet.

 

\--

 

They couldn’t bury him, for he might become a Risen. They had cremated all of her friends, one by one, throughout the years. Ricken would be no exception.

 

Lissa ordered the garden’s buddleia to be chopped down. They had gathered the branches, covered in clusters of purple flowers, in the courtyard. She hadn’t seen any butterfly near it in years, although that plant specifically attracted them. This bush had seen their first games together. Their first dance, far from the overcrowded ballroom. Their first kiss, also. It had witnessed him kneeling and slipping his signet ring at her finger, it had witnessed him asking her to be his wife.

 

What was the point of watching that plant, then, with no one to share the sight?

 

Frederick placed Ricken’s body atop the branches. Cynthia and Yarne slipped calla lilies and white ribbons in his hat, although Heartsgiving was far gone already. Brady had cleaned the wound and tried, in vain, to wash the blood away from his mage cape. Then, they all stood in silence. Nah recited a prayer aloud. Morgan stepped forward and opened his tome. He opened his mouth to cast his spell, but no word came out. Lissa saw his shoulders hunch and his head drop.

 

“I-I can’t… I-I’m sorry, I can’t…” He sobbed, mostly to himself.

Laurent walked to him and put his hand on his shoulder, speaking softly “It’s okay, Morgan. I will do it for you.”

“Thank you…” He said, his voice breaking.

 

Morgan took several steps back, and sought refuge in his sister’s arms. Lucina hugged him tight, although she seemed to have no tears left to cry. Owain took his mother’s hand and laced their fingers.

 

Laurent’s voice, calm, composed and solemn, rose as he lifted his right hand “Fire.”

 

Since the buddleia’s wood had not dried, it had difficulties burning. But Frederick had taken care of everything beforehand and had added more wood so the flames would not falter. Lissa hated cremations. She hated them because of the mixed smell of wood and burning flesh, because of the cracking branches. They overlapped with the memories of long lost halcyon days, when watching such fires meant going on adventures with her brother to help the ones in need.

 

She hid in her son’s chest to cry, and he wrapped his arms around her body as they slowly sank to their knees, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

 

She didn’t want to keep on fighting anymore.

 

\--

 

She hated that sword.

 

A sword that was supposed to be full of promises. A sword that she had carried on her back for more than a decade, waiting patiently for the day Naga would deem her worthy of it. A sword that was supposed to help her defeat the Fell Dragon, and protect her people.

 

So why, _why on Earth_ , did she have to watch her husband die as soon as she had been able to wield it? Was there some kind of irony behind this? Did Naga have a good laugh at her pain, at her despair? Was she having fun, watching her suffer?

 

She hated that sword, but she couldn’t bring herself to dump that burden on Lucina’s shoulders, as selfish the need to was. There were three other potential wielders for that sword. A sword of Damocles, a curse rather than a blessing. She couldn’t even kill Grima with it, not without the completed Fire Emblem. Maybe, to push the irony further, she could stab herself with it and join her husband and siblings where they were, so she wouldn’t have to be alone again. She actually considered the thought several times when, during one of her many sleepless nights, she wandered around the castle in hope she could find some rest. Sit on the throne, take her life there with Falchion, and finally leave this world which had lost its meaning.

 

But every time she laid her eyes on the children, she reconsidered. She couldn’t abandon them. They had been counting on her for so many years, she could not stab them in the back like that and leave Frederick alone to pick up the pieces. She felt alone, yes, but how alone would Owain, Lucina and Morgan feel if she were to give up?

 

She was tired. So tired. Tired of being the Exalt. Tired of carrying Falchion.

 

Tired of being a leader she wasn’t supposed to be.

 

\--

 

Years came and went, but the pain never faltered. She couldn’t close her eyes at night without seeing the blood. All this blood. Everywhere, staining her clothes, her skin, her hair. And, in the middle of this blinding and deafening red, Ricken’s smiling face. When she was awake, she saw Chrom’s reflection on her – his – shoulder piece. Robin’s smell lingered on the coat Morgan wore.

 

The children – although they had nothing of children anymore, except Nah, maybe – had all grown into strong warriors. She wished she could say they were fearless too. But they were as scared as she was. It was hard to keep her composure. Everyone knew it was a façade, but there was a consensus among them. Lucina, however, had grown determined. She had her father’s gift for leadership, that charisma that kept the group going despite the dark days.

 

“Frederick?” She asked one night, sitting in front of the fire. Her voice was low, exhausted.

“Yes, Milady?” He replied while pushing the embers around in the hearth of the room.

“I’m tired.”

“I shall prepare your bed right away.” He said, standing straight.

“That’s not what I mean.”

 

The knight looked at the ground for a few seconds, then came to kneel at her feet. She combed a hand in his hair. Even after all these years, he still was prim-and-proper; some kind of habit that, fortunately, instilled some sense of stability in her. He kept on doing his duties, as if there wasn’t a chaos god outside destroying the world. She noticed the grey strands among his dark brown mane. He leaned into her touch and sighed. He was as tired as her. He did not deserve this. He had given his life for her sister, then her brother, and now, her. She had nothing of the greatness of her late siblings. She was just the last-born of a family of great leaders. Her father acknowledging her had already been a miracle in the first place.

 

“I’ve been thinking…” She eventually said.

“Yes…?” He whispered.

“I think I should abdicate.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her “Is that what you really wish?”

Her lips twitched in an attempt of a smile “You know that I didn’t want to be the Exalt from day one.”

“And yet, you can be proud of your accomplishments.”

Tears formed in her eyes “What accomplishments, Frederick? Tell me, whose Exalt am I? Everyone is dead. Ylisstol is empty. When’s the last time you have seen a flower grow or heard a bird sing?”

The knight shifted and wrapped his arms around her “You held your head high for the past seventeen years, and raised by yourself thirteen children.”

“But I’m so weak…” She sobbed.

He hummed playfully “Sounds odd, for someone who spent her teenage years yelling around that she was, and I quote: “not delicate”.”

A giggle escaped her throat “Come on, I was fifteen.”

“And you were our ray of sunshine.” He let her go just enough to kiss her forehead “You _are_ my ray of sunshine, Lissa. I will always follow you, might it be to my death.”

“In Chrom and Emm’s memory…?”

He smiled tenderly at her “No, because I believe in _you_.”

 

She rested her head against his shoulder again, and he gently combed a hand through her hair. She had given up on the pigtails shortly after Owain’s birth, because he had kept on pulling them whenever she had held him in her arms. Ricken had said he loved it when she had her hair down.

 

She sighed, and turned her head to rest her cheek on Frederick’s shoulder. Her gaze fell on Falchion, resting against the footboard of the bed. She didn’t even have the energy to curse at the sword anymore. It was there. It was there, nothing more. She closed her eyes and held her friend closer. She heard the hurried steps coming closer in the corridor. Lissa braced herself for the impact. What bad news would they bring to her, on that cold evening?

 

Nah barged in, a sleepy Morgan on her heels. Seeing her face wet with tears was not uncommon. However, she had never seen such a bright smile on the Manakete’s lips.

 

“Aunt Lissa!!! Naga!! Naga answered me!!!!”

 

\--

 

That miracle sure had known how to keep them waiting. Nah had managed to get in touch with Naga briefly, and the goddess had told her that she would talk to them the following morning. For the first time in years, Lissa went to bed with her guts twisting less than the usual.

 

Morning came, and she rose before the sun. Owain was still sleeping soundly next to her, his breath slow and even. It was in those little moments that she saw Ricken’s features in his. They had the same adorable embarrassed pout. And the same sleeping face. He looked like nothing was wrong when he slept. That he slipped into another world in which everything was made of love and light. Sitting up in the bed, she watched the sun rise once again, until the light hurt her eyes and she had to close them. She felt the rays’ warmth on her face, and imagined one of those blessed mornings when, after an agitated night, she watched the break of the day until Ricken wrapped an arm around her hips and lured her back to sleep with his sleepy, enticing voice.

 

After a while, she got out of bed and put her clothes on. She wandered for some time in the empty, half destroyed corridors of the castle. It was a ruin now, they had just enough rooms that were not at the mercy of the winds, some sort of kitchen, and a semblance of a water room. She bumped into Morgan on her way to grab some food. He was smiling, a bit wider than the usual, and went to hug her as soon as he saw her.

 

“Good morning, Aunt Lissa.” He chirped in the crook of her neck.

She hugged him back tightly “Good morning, Morgan.” Her lips stretched into the ghost of a playful smile “You seem quite enthusiastic today…”

He let her go just enough to look at her “Of course! We’ll finally talk to Naga!”

 

She was sad and tired, but that didn’t mean she was dumb and unobservant. She had definitely noticed that blush on the young man’s cheeks and how he tried to control his grin so it would not be too wide. She pinched his cheek endearingly.

 

“Suuure. Don’t try to fool your aunt, little one. I was the one who guessed your dad was head over heels for your mom before _he_ even realised it, remember?”

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” He chuckled when she let him go.

She gave him a smug grin “Nope! Spit it out, young man.”

He blushed again and averted his eyes, bringing a hand to his nape to scratch it “Well… It’s with Nah.”

“Obviously it is. Give me details!”

 

This conversation almost had a sense of normalcy. It was the kind of conversation that would have happened in a living world, where flowers grew and people smiled. A world in which his parents would have been alive and watched him grow into the fine young man he was. Yes… They were still alive in this mess, after all. They were still humans, under the scarred warriors.

 

Morgan’s lips stretched into a lopsided, embarrassed grin “Well, uh… When she managed to reach Naga, she was overexcited, you see. I-I mean, it’s normal, right? She tried for so long so- A-anyway, she suddenly stood up and started squealing and jumping around, but at first I didn’t get what was happening because I didn’t notice anything different and… also I was dozing o-“

Lissa rolled her eyes “By Naga, you’re jabbering like your father.”

“She, uh… Out of the blue she jumped in my arms and kissed me?” He giggled, visibly unable to believe his own words.

“Aah, good good. I should tell Frederick to give you The Talk as soon as possible then.”

He gasped and turned beet red “Please, Aunt Lissa, don’t!!

“What, you know about it already?” She wriggled her eyebrows “So she wasn’t always praying, uh?”

“Oh gods n-no, th-that’s not what I mean!” He squeaked, hiding his face behind his hands “It’s… It’s just that Inigo told me about it.”

Lissa snorted, lifting an eyebrow “Inigo? He can’t even look at your sister without turning into a blushing mess. What could he even tell you about this?”

“A-anyway, I’ll be fine…” Morgan concluded while looking down.

“I know you will, I was just teasing you.” She said, before kissing his forehead “Is she sleeping?”

“Yes. She’s in my room.”

 

Lissa lifted an eyebrow again, but did not say a word. Morgan waved his hands in embarrassment, swearing that it was only because everyone was asleep and he didn’t want them to wake up. She patted his shoulder and walked in direction of his bedroom. He really had taken after Chrom in the matters of the heart. A real wyvern in a porcelain shop. And Lucina was no better.

 

As expected, Nah was sound asleep when she stepped in the room. She had untied her hair, which was spreading on the pillow and around her shoulders elegantly, all wavy because of the braids she usually kept it in. She had also changed and put a nightgown on. Her dragonstone, which usually never left her neck, was on the nightstand, next to Morgan’s tome. Lissa sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the girl’s bangs away from her face.

 

The Manakete shifted lightly in her sleep, instinctively turning her face towards Lissa’s hand. The Exalt cupped her cheek, and she leaned into the touch with a sigh of relief. She whispered her mother’s name in an exhale. She was not her mother, but after all these years spent together, Lissa somehow felt like all of these children had become her own. The fact that they all called her “Aunt Lissa” without exception was in itself a proof of their attachment. She bent down and kissed Nah’s temple, gently enough to not wake her up.

 

“You did so well.” She whispered.

 

\--

 

Naga appeared to them in what remained of the throne room. A long time ago, it had high, narrow windows like in a cathedral, but now the only remaining wall was the one behind where her brother’s wooden throne once stood, and half of the eastern wall. The sunlight had soon been hidden by Grima’s dark clouds. She was beautiful. Elegant. So that was what a goddess looked like. She looked sad and tired.

 

“Thank you so much for hearing us out.” Nah said.

“Yeah, after a whole decade.” Severa mumbled to herself. Gerome nudged her in the ribs.

 

Lissa felt her heart squeeze in her chest. She had dreamt for this moment for so long, and now she was finally seeing her, she didn’t know what to say.

 

“ _I must apologise_ ” Naga eventually said “ _for my silence_.”

 

Lissa held back a snort. She actually apologised for having left them to their own devices since Tiki’s death? She had quite the nerve. She hoped she had had a nice vacation, wherever she had mysteriously disappeared to when they were all facing death on a daily basis.

 

“Please, tell us there is a way to perform the Awakening.” Lucina implored.

The goddess looked down “ _Unfortunately not. Not without the gemstones_.”

“But we did our best to find them! Can’t you make an exception?” Cynthia asked.

She shook her head “ _I can’t_.”

 

Then what was the fucking _point_ of this conversation? Why would she even bother waltzing back in after more than a decade just to tell them what they already knew? Lissa felt her blood boiling, but Frederick put his hand on her shoulder to try calming her down.

 

Naga’s eyes pierced through hers “ _I understand your resentment, Exalt_.”

 

All gazes set on her. Some in disbelief, others in shock. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. She harshly pushed Frederick’s hand away and crossed the room, her chin held high and determination echoing in her steps. She unsheathed Falchion and threw it at the goddess’ feet with all her strength and anger, the rattle of the metal on the ground piercing their ears.

 

“Oh yeah? You _understand_ my resentment?!” She hissed “You UNDERSTAND MY RESENTMENT?! Have you even tried to imagine what it felt to carry that goddamn sword on your back for fifteen long years, without being able to use it?! How _dare you_ say this, when you “blessed” me with your cursed light then let my husband die under my very eyes? Have you protected my brother? My sister? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU ALL THIS TIME WHEN _WE_ -“ she gestured at everyone in the room “NEEDED YOU THE MOST?!? You let the world die and we did our best to save it by ourselves and now you’re telling us that you can’t do shit about it?!? How do you even have the _nerve_ to give us false hope like this?!”

“ _Exalt, please calm down_.” Naga said, frowning.

“NO!! No, I won’t calm down!! I won’t calm down because you don’t know how it fucking _feels_ to have all your loved ones taken away one by one!!” Her voice broke and went a notch higher when her throat tightened with sobs “You weren’t the one who had to stay strong for all of these children!! You weren’t the one who had to listen to them crying at night because their parents never came back!! You weren’t the one who wondered everyday what was the point of this fight, since no one is on our side!!”

“ _Exalt, I said_ enough.” The goddess snarled.

“Look at them!! Look at these children!! I gave almost twenty years of my life to raise them! I promised them a better future!! And where is this future right now?!” She inhaled sharply and fell to her knees, her face drenched in tears “I beg you… I beg you to save them…” Her voice finally faltered in a hiccup and she curled up on the ground “Please… If you can’t help us save this world, at least… At least save _them…_ ”

 

The heavy silence that followed was only punctuated by her silent sobs and her hiccups. Had she screamed at a god? Yes. It was less scary than it seemed. She had finally got this heavy weight off her chest, and off her sore shoulders. She felt hands on her back, and she turned her head to the side.

 

Lucina.

 

The young woman pulled her against her chest, squeezing her tight against her body. She nuzzled in her hair, her lips trembling.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Aunt Lissa…” She whispered “I love you. I love you so much…”

Owain knelt next to them and wrapped his arms around them “We never… We never realised how hard it was for you, mother. We’re the ones who should apologise.”

 

Morgan was the next to join in, then Yarne, and then Cynthia called for a group hug, and soon enough she found herself in the middle of improvised hugging, with the exception of Severa, Gerome and Laurent, who where not that much into displays of affection. However, Cordelia’s daughter looked at her, her hands on her hips and her eyes shining with tears. She was obviously too proud to cry in front of her friends, so she tried to keep her composure.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us about it?” She asked.

Lissa chuckled between two sobs “Because I’m your aunt! Aunts are cool, you know?”

Severa clenched her jaw to contain her emotions, but ended up hiding her face behind her sleeve “You’re such an idiot…”

“Guess Owain had to take after someone.” Cynthia teased with a smug grin.

“Hey! That’s mean!” He whined with a pout. Exactly how Ricken would do.

 

The sound of Frederick’s steps echoed against the broken walls as he walked closer to the goddess. He picked Falchion and, unable to lift it, simply pulled the sword up so its tip remained on the ground. He put both of his hands on the top of the pommel.

 

“Milady Naga.” He said with his eternal composure “I presume that, if you have decided to talk to us today, it is because you have something in mind, isn’t it?”

 

They all listened to him, holding their breaths in apprehension. Lissa squeezed Lucina closer, fear running in her veins. She wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say; now she had cried her heart out, she felt too empty to be able to process new information.

 

Naga nodded “ _I do have an alternative_.” She looked in Lissa’s direction “ _If you wish to hear me out_.”

“Do I really have a choice?” She snorted weakly.

“ _I_ _can’t perform the Awakening… But there is a way to stop Grima_.”

 

Gasps escaped from several mouths, and quickly enough they let go of their aunt to listen more attentively.

 

“ _Exalt, you asked me to give these young people a future_.” The goddess said “ _I shall grant your wish. We cannot stop Grima now… But we can stop them from coming back_.”

“That means-“ Nah whispered.

“ _Sending you back to the past, before Grima is reborn_.”

 

The… past? Lissa blinked. She expected tears to blur her sight again. But nothing came. She heard a laugh. A genuine, wholehearted laugh. She needed a few seconds to realise that it was coming from her own throat, that she was the one whose shoulders started shaking. The past. She was going to send them to the past!

 

She inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath, a wide smile on her lips “Oh gods, why did it take you so long to come up with this?!”

 

\--

 

Naga explained her fifteen-year-long absence with two reasons: first, she had been gathering the necessary energy to open a gate towards the past, and thus had plunged herself in a state of slumber to preserve her powers. Secondly, by doing so, she had made herself undetectable to Grima and thus kept them at bay by avoiding a deadly rampage.

 

They had three days to reach Mount Prism and cross the Outrealm Gate. It was probably the best news she had heard since the Fell Dragon had returned. The children were getting restless; as soon as the goddess had disappeared, they had all rushed to their respective rooms to get ready for the journey. Frederick had brought Falchion back to her, not without difficulty. He had knelt and held the sword out to her, his hands and arms trembling under its weight. She had seen her reflection on the shining blade, how her hair had gradually lost its curls with the years, the crow’s feet at her eyes, how the colors on Emmeryn’s cape had started fading. She had grabbed the sword’s pommel with a sigh and reluctantly sheathed it back in its rightful place.

 

They departed during late afternoon. When they crossed the southern gate of the capital, Lissa stopped and turned around to look at the city that had watched her grow for the last time. From there, the castle seemed so big and impressive, even in ruins. So grand and beautiful. She curtseyed, bowing her head low at her beloved Ylisstol. Frederick called her, so she turned around and walked away without looking back.

 

Naga’s return seemed to have had some effect on the Risen. They attacked more frequently and more violently; Falchion proved itself to be useful, in the end, even if Lissa didn’t really like using it. She missed the softness of staves sometimes. At least the regalia was effective against the monsters, and fortunately less heavy to bear for her hands and heart. She insisted to be on the first line when in battle, so she wouldn’t risk putting the children in danger. She had promised them a future, and if that future was in the past, then so be it.

 

\--

 

“What does the past look like?”

 

Cynthia’s question surprised them and a long silence followed, the fire creaking and spreading soft orange light on their faces. She looked at Lissa, a hopeful and expectant spark in her eyes.

 

“What does the past look like, uh?” She repeated, before glancing at Frederick with a small smile “What do you think, Frederick?”

The knight stopped polishing the Exalt’s shoulder piece “Mmh… The fields around the capital are beautiful to watch in summer. When you see the ears of wheat moving around with the winds, it’s like…”

“Like gold.” Lissa completed “The castle’s garden is always green, except when the snow falls in winter. The buddleia…” Her voice faltered for a moment as a flash of Ricken playing with swallowtails passed before her eyes “The buddleia attracts dozens of butterflies, so there are a lot of them flying around.”

“What about Aunt Emmeryn?” Morgan asked, leaning closer.

“She was… is the most selfless person you will ever meet. Her voice is soft and calming, but she can be fierce when she wants to.” Lissa grinned in embarrassment “She didn’t really like when I played pranks on her advisors back then.”

“Actually, she played stern with you, but she enjoyed it a lot.” Frederick said with the hint of a smile on his lips.

Owain’s eyes shone “And Father?”

Lissa grabbed a small branch and started tracing random patterns in the dirt “Well, if you meet him, chances are that you will be older than him. Don’t be surprised if he looks like a child to you. He… Puberty hit him kind of late.”

 

She gladly told them about the world as she and Frederick had known it. About the small details that made it beautiful. About their old traditions, about Flaementide and Heartsgiving, about how people gathered to celebrate love and life. It seemed difficult for them to imagine, but Morgan and Cynthia were already excited to witness those.

 

She and Frederick decided to take the first turn of night watch. They wandered not far from the camp; they could still see the dying embers as they walked and inspected their surroundings. The night was calm, almost too calm in her opinion. It was almost suspicious.

 

“Aunt Lissa?”

Lissa squeaked and turned around, putting a hand over her heart “Lucina! You almost gave me a heart attack!” She whisper-yelled. How did she even manage to get close to them _without_ getting noticed?

She scratched her neck “I’m sorry…But I can’t sleep. I keep on pondering about something…”

She walked closer to her and took her hand “What is it, Luci?”

 

The young woman’s eyes travelled to Frederick, still standing a few metres behind her, then back to her. She took a breath, opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She pinched her lips instead, looking down with a pained frown. Lissa cupped her cheek.

 

“What is it, sweetie?” She said with a voice that she wanted reassuring.

“You… You’re not planning to come with us…” She looked at her again “Are you?”

 

Lissa blinked. Once. Twice. What had she said for Lucina to figure out her plan? Which hints had shown through for her to come to that conclusion? Her niece frowned ever so faintly, searching for the truth in her eyes. After a few seconds of silence, the Exalt sighed.

 

“You’re right. Please don’t tell the others about it…”

“But why?” She implored “Don’t you want to see Uncle Ricken again? And Father? Mother? Aunt Emmeryn?”

A sad smile stretched her lips, and she brushed Lucina’s bangs to the side “Don’t get me wrong. I would love to see them again… But I don’t belong to their world.”

“But neither do we!” She countered desperately.

Her voice wavered with emotion “Lucina. Where you will go, I will be the same age as Ricken’s mother. I would fall in love with him all over again, and he will not even look at me. Not without both of us feeling awkward. And I can’t accept the idea of being twice my siblings’ age, that’s beyond me.”

“But-“

“My choice is made, sweetie. My life is made already. What’s the point of reliving it?” She tapped Lucina’s sternum with a finger “But _you_ , you can have a future there. You can get to see this world I used to tell you about for so long. You can meet your father and mother, and make sure they stay by your side to raise you, because that’s what your brother and you deserve. This is what all of you deserve.”

The princess’ eyes drifted to the knight, full of apprehension “…What about you, Frederick? Are you coming with us?”

The man shook his head and came closer to put his hand on Lissa’s shoulder “Whatever decision Milady makes, I will follow. If she wishes to go on this journey, I will be part of it. If she wishes to stay here, I will be by her side.”

The Exalt covered his hand with hers, unable to look at him “Don’t feel forced to stay for me…”

“It’s not because of my duty that I’m doing so. I’m doing this on my own will.”

“There is no way to change your mind…?” Lucina asked her aunt.

“There isn’t. But I’m counting on you to give my siblings my best regards, understood?”

 

Lucina nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. As painful as it was, this decision was for the best. She couldn’t admit it out loud but… She was scared. She was actually terrified to cross that gate and lay her eyes on Chrom, to watch him smile and hear his warm, comforting voice. She would break down without doubt.  She would most likely collapse in Emmeryn’s arms. She would squeeze Ricken tight against her and never be able to let him go. She would burst into tears at the sight of Maribelle. But the one who scared her the most was… Herself. How would she react to the sight of a teenage Lissa, sweet and innocent, her blond pigtails bouncing with each of her happy chuckles? How could she look at her in the eye and smile back at her, at the living ghost of the person she no longer was? Would she be able to tell her all the things she had endured for the past twenty years, about how she had to stay strong with only Frederick at her side to support her? Could she tell her that, even brandless, she could carry Falchion and that was _not_ a chance in the least? Would she spare her the horrible memories or warn her about what was going to come if they didn’t stop the Grimleal in time? Past Lissa finding out about having a son would already be quite shocked, she couldn’t burden her with the empty shell of a widowed Exalt who had nothing left to lose except for her thirteen children. She had nothing of an Exalt anyway. She never had.

 

When Noire and Kjelle took over for patrol, Lissa walked around the camp to check on her recomposed family. Yarne had transformed into his beast form, curling up on himself. Morgan was in the small gap left between his legs, using his best friend’s fur as a warm pillow. Nah was nuzzling in his chest, his coat like a blanket on their tired bodies. Gerome was dozing off against Minerva, who shielded him under a protective wing. Cynthia’s Pegasus behaved in a similar fashion with its owner. Severa was leaning against a nearby tree, her arms crossed and her head tilted down. The rest of them were sleeping near the last embers of the fire, in attempt to stay warm for a few more minutes. Lissa silently lied down next to Owain, in hope she wouldn’t wake him up. But the young man turned around, his eyes only half-opening to make sure that yes, his mother was back. He rolled around and buried his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. She lazily scratched his scalp, a gesture that lulled them both to sleep.

 

\--

 

A bloodcurling shriek had them jump awake at the break of the day. Frederick was the first to grab his lance and lift his head towards the sky. The unmistakable silhouettes of wyvern riders stood out in the morning skies, and they all jumped on their weapons, although their minds were still foggy with sleep. Nah transformed and took off – ignoring Morgan’s desperate tries to call her back -, followed by Gerome and Cynthia with Noire a couple of seconds later.

 

“To the forest, quick!” Lissa yelled.

 

The group ran towards the nearest trees to seek shelter. They heard new howls and the sounds of branches cracking as some of the monsters tried to find some space to land for an attack. Others came down on the clearing they just left, and the warriors started chasing after them. Laurent managed to keep them at bay with a thunder spell. They had to find a way out of this before they got surrounded.

 

“Pair up!!” Morgan shouted “Chances are they’re going to attack from the front too, don’t leave any openings!!”

“Mother, you’re with me!” Owain ordered.

 

He slowed down so she could catch up with him. Morgan climbed on Yarne’s back; she didn’t see the others, for they were already too far in the woods for her to see. Branches broke to her right as a wyvern crashed to the ground, its throat embedded with arrows. One of them was planted in its riders’ forehead. Lissa’s lungs were burning from the run, bushes scratching her arms and hips, branches whipping her face, causing her to hiss in pain. She tripped several times on prominent tree roots, losing her balance more than once but always catching herself before she could fall.

 

From the corner of the eye, to her right and half hidden behind the trees, she spotted a sky blue patch of light. She couldn’t really focus more on it, for the tree trunk she and Owain were about to bypass suddenly exploded, the strength of the blow sending her flying a few meters away. Falchion flew from her hands and bounced against the nearest oak. Her son had dodged the blow just in time and threw himself at the wyvern that pounced on them, a loud cry coming out of his throat. Claws flashed. Scales shone. Fangs bared. Lissa screamed. He hadn’t unsheathed his sword yet. He wouldn’t have the time to.

 

A high-pitched cry escaped her mouth “OWAIN!!!!!”

 

The young man was shoved to the side without warning. Lissa saw the shining sky blue light and needed a second to process as the monster shrieked in pain and collapsed in a pool of blood.

 

Lucina’s hair returned to its original color and fell back down on her shoulders graciously. When she turned around, Lissa could see nothing but the Brand in her left eye, which had turned white. After a second, it faded back to its natural blue. Owain got back on his feet with a grunt and rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

 

“Urgh, Luci, you could be more gentle.”

“You’re welcome.” She deadpanned, then looked at her aunt. Her eyes widened in surprise “Aunt Lissa? What’s wrong?”

 

Lissa touched her cheeks and noticed they were wet with tears. She looked at her fingertips in disbelief, then back at the young woman.

 

“You have… Naga’s Light…” She whispered, her lips trembling.

Owain walked to her and pulled her up by the arm “We’ll discuss this later, mother. Now’s not the time!”

 

Lucina picked up Falchion and held it out to her, pommel first. The sword was weightless in her palm. Lissa’s eyes fell on the blade, and she suddenly felt too afraid to take it. But her niece’s stare was strong on her. Persuasive. Unwavering. She wouldn’t take no as an answer. Not now. She still had a job to do.

So Lissa took a deep breath and placed her hand on Falchion’s pommel.

 

They were the first to get out of the forest. Frederick followed shortly. Even on foot, the knight was swift and precise in his moves. There were four wyvern riders still up in the sky, while five others had landed to corner them at the edge of the woods. Yarne and Morgan were already fighting one together, the Taguel gashing and growling while the young man cast spell after spell while keeping a close eye on their formation. Noire took down another monster with a well placed arrow. Kjelle stabbed its rider through the chest as soon as it crashed on the ground. Lissa wedged Falchion in the shoulder of one of the two enemy monsters that had followed them through the woods, partially cutting its wing open in the process. Blood spurted on her face, but she ignored it. She ignored the iron smell. She ignored the warmth of the red fluid on her cheek. Another strike, and this time the Risen fell off the saddle with an angry growl. She was quick to kill it, and it slowly dispersed into thin purple smoke.

 

A deafening yelp had her instantly turn around in fear. Yarne had two arrows stuck in his back leg. Morgan was lying on the ground a bit further – he had been thrown down in the process -; he sat up and spat some blood, before wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

 

“Yarne!!” He called.

“Got him!” Brady yelled as he ran towards his friend “Gotcha covered, Morgan!”

“Thanks!”

 

The young man got back on his feet and picked up his tome. His eyes met Lissa’s. She smiled at him, sadly. He smiled back, although a bit worriedly.

 

Lucina was going on a rampage with a calculated composure, Inigo flitting around right behind her and finishing off the Risen who had miraculously survived her deadly blows. She had Chrom’s expertise in swordsmanship and Robin’s cool-headedness in battle; she had all the qualities required for an Exalt. If they hadn’t been in the middle of a battle, Lissa would have cried in relief at the blessed sight.

 

They were fortunately getting the upper hand against their foes. They had managed to get rid of all the enemies on the ground, and two of the Risen had been forced to land, ambushed by Gerome and Minerva. Nah had to take down the last enemy, and the fight would be done.

 

Except it didn’t go as planned.

 

The Manakete’s shriek of pain tore the sky and Lissa’s heart. The wyvern’s fangs had pierced through her neck, and its rider taken advantage of the attack to slash her left arm. She struggled against the monster and managed to escape from the deadly grip. Minerva instantly pounced on the Risen and gashed the wyvern to death.

 

Nah fell down the sky. Lissa’s blood froze. No. Not her. Not Nah. Not now.

Morgan screamed. He started running in her direction.

When she touched the ground, her dragon form shattered. There was no other way to describe it. Her scales cracked and scattered, the sound reminding her of stained glass crumbling to pieces. Despite herself, the Exalt ran towards her. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t let more of her beloved ones die. Not again. She wouldn’t be able to endure it.

 

Morgan was kneeling by her side when she joined them. She had lacerations on her neck, and the sleeve of her dress was torn to shreds, revealing a deep cut from her shoulder to the inside of her arm, near the elbow. She had lost consciousness.

 

“Nah! Nah!! Wake up!” Morgan begged, cupping her cheeks “Please! Oh my gods please wake up…” He started crying and panting in panic.

Lissa quickly knelt next to them and inspected her arm. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself “We can heal that.”

 

They could, right? The cut was not that deep…

 

_The sword had lodged in the man’s side, halfway through his body, and an inhuman scream escaped his throat. He then fell to his knees, his gaze unfocused, and collapsed on his side. His body made no sound but a soft thud when it touched the grass._

 

Lissa gasped, the strength of the flashback stealing the air from her lungs. Her vision blurred, sounds getting gradually muffled around her. Her head felt heavy. So heavy. She felt warm arms around her, pulling her up and further away from the wounded girl. She knew who it was. She whispered Frederick’s name and rested her head against his chest. She didn’t understand what he said, but she recognised his warm voice in the distance. That was all she wanted to keep herself grounded. To not let the memory swallow her. She whispered his name again. He held her closer. Far in her field of vision, she saw the pale blue glow of Brady’s staff.

 

_Ricken lifted his head from his book, the gesture causing the swallowtails that had landed in his auburn hair to take off and seek refuge on the buddleia behind him. He smiled brightly at her, one of his eyeteeth missing. The permanent tooth was already showing on his gum._

_“Sorry I made you wait.” She said, the embarrassment causing her to twist one of her blond curls around her fingers._

_“It’s okay, I found this super interesting book in the library. Do you want to read it with me?”_

_Chrom barged into the room, breathless. He was all pale, and in an utter state of panic. She had never seen him in this state before._

_“What’s wro-“_

_“Robin!!!” He blurted out between two pants “Waters…! The waters broke…!”_

_She quickly stood from her chair and grabbed her staff in a hurry “Go get Maribelle, I’m coming right away!”_

_“…Are you certain of it?”_

_She nodded, unable to look at him in the eyes “I haven’t had my periods for the past three months so…”_

_Ricken caught her in his arms, spinning on a precarious balance as his laughter echoed against the walls of the room “Oh my gods, we’re having a baby! You just made the happiest man in the realm!”_

 

She didn’t know how many memories she actually saw. But it felt good, like watching a kaleidoscope of the most beautiful moments of her life. It felt like hours, long, painless hours during which she almost forgot who she was, where she was supposed to be, what awaited her once she woke up.

 

When she came to, Lissa realised it had only lasted mere seconds. Brady put his staff on the ground, ignoring the worried stares of all his friends piercing through his back. He grabbed Nah’s wrist and held the back of his free hand just under her nose. He waited for a few seconds, during which the Exalt asked her retainer to help her back up to come closer.

 

“She’s breathing.” He finally said.

 

All of them sighed in relief, except for Morgan who pulled her up against his chest and thanked Naga with countless whispers in the crook of the Manakete’s neck. Lucina knelt next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

 

\--

 

They needed a few minutes to regain some control over themselves and let the adrenaline leave their sore bodies. Inigo cracked a joke about how this had been the most abrupt way of waking up he had witnessed so far. It fell flat, except for the faint twitch of Cynthia’s lips. Nah was still unconscious, and despite Morgan’s protests, Frederick had taken her in his arms as if she had been made of glass and refused to let her go until she woke up. Lucina, worried about her aunt’s well-being, insisted that she didn’t overdo herself for at least a few hours. The Exalt had complied and spent most of the day sitting on the Pegasus’ saddle, Cynthia holding the reins and walking next to them. Yarne hobbled faintly – he had refused Gerome’s offer to climb on Minerva’s back - but never complained about it.

 

They faced three more attacks, fortunately less strong this time, until night fell. They stopped alongside a stream for the night, staying hidden under a patch of trees right next to it. Nah woke up; her arm and neck were sore, but she seemed to be generally okay. They were too exposed to light a fire, but the moon shone enough through Grima’s clouds to provide some light. They had some fruits with them, that they shared for dinner. Lissa went to the stream afterwards, Frederick staying close by, and undressed to clean herself up. The water was too cold to even think about immersing herself in it – the last thing she needed was to catch a cold – but the fresh sensation on her face and arms made her exhale deeply in relief. She scrubbed the dirt and blood away from her skin, then spent some time flicking acorns and pebbles into the water, until she started shivering from the cold. She put her clothes back on, but when Frederick held Falchion out to her, she shook her head and only put her belts back on. She walked back to the camp, holding the sword in her arms. Calmness had fallen upon the children, who were already half dozing off against the trees.

 

“Lucina.” Lissa called quietly.

The young woman opened an eye and lifted her head from Inigo’s shoulder, waking him up in the process “Yes, Aunt Lissa?”

“Come here.”

 

The young woman stood up, the shuffling waking up more of her friends. They would all be awake by the time she was done with this, anyway. Her niece faced her. She didn’t see any trace of confusion on her face when her gaze fell on the sacred sword in her hands, neither when she looked back at her. The corner of her lips twitched into a soft smile. She knew what she was about to do.

 

“You don’t have to do this.” She said.

Lissa shook her head “I am giving you what is rightfully yours. I have already overstayed my welcome for far too long. Now kneel.”

 

Lucina put one knee down and closed her eyes. Lissa drew Falchion and handed the sheath to Frederick, who took it with a silent nod. She breathed in, then out, slowly. That was not how she had imagined how it would go, but time was running short, and she wanted to take advantage of this small moment of peace. Morgan untangled himself from Nah’s sleepy embrace and went to provide his sister support by standing behind her, a bit to her right. His eyes were shining with determination. Lissa cleared her throat.

 

“I, Lissa, Regent Exalt of the Halidom of Ylisse and ex-member of the Shepherds” She said with a loud and solemn voice, tapping her niece’s left shoulder with the tip of the sword “Shall hand over the throne and name you, Lucina, Crown Princess of Ylisse, Exalt of the Halidom.” She tapped her right shoulder “You shall receive the Sacred Blade Falchion, symbol of the Exalted family, for you have proved yourself to be its worthy wielder.”

 

\--

 

Falchion had stopped being heavy on her back years ago. And yet she had never felt so light since she had given it to her niece. It felt like an unbearable pressure lifting off her chest, allowing her to breathe in deeply for the first time since she had been crowned Exalt.

 

The Risen left them at peace the following morning. Yarne was already feeling better, but Nah was still weak from her wounds. But above all, she didn’t want the others to look at her. Especially not Morgan. This, obviously, upset him a lot, but he tried his best to understand. His last resort was to seek help from her aunt. Lissa smiled at him, kissed his forehead, and walked to the border of the stream, where the Manakete had found refuge. The sun was not up yet, but there was enough light to see properly. As soon as she heard her steps, Nah turned around and glared at her.

 

“Leave me alone, Aunt Lissa.” She hissed.

Lissa crossed her arms, lifting an eyebrow at her “Tsk-tsk-tsk, no such tone with me, young lady.”

 

Nah brought her knees to her chest and readjusted her cape around her neck, looking back at the flowing water in silence. Lissa sighed and went to sit next to her. They didn’t say a word for a few minutes, until she took a small pebble and threw it in the water nonchalantly.

 

“What’s wrong? Morgan came to get me because you won’t let him near you. Or anybody else, apparently.”

“I…failed.” She admitted with a small voice, like a child who had done something wrong.

She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close “Are you kidding me? You managed to talk to Naga! And you got a boyfriend – you have an excellent taste by the way, Morgan is a great match – and it’s not a bad thing to have someone to cuddle at night.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She said, burying her face in her knees.

“…Is it because of yesterday’s fight?”

 

The young girl nodded. Of course it was, she should have thought about it sooner. She kissed her hair and rested her head against hers.

 

“Nah, sweetie, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You fought bravely yesterday.” Nah lifted her head and opened her mouth to protest, but she cut her “Everyone gets hurt at some point. It happens. That’s what we get for fighting. Your wound was kind of deep, so it’s normal for you to not feel good today. As a healer, I can assure you you’re not doing your body any favour if you push it past its limits.”

“But… I’m ugly now.” She whispered as she turned to her.

 

Her eyes were shining with tears. Ugly? Fights were ugly, of course. If she could, she wouldn’t have chosen to fight to save the world, she would have found another way. She tilted her head to the side, a bit confused. After a few seconds, Nah pulled her cape aside to show her neck. There were red stripes on her skin, like a necklace of fresh scars that would soon fade to white.

 

“Are you worried about the scars?”

 

Nah nodded. Lissa took her arm and observed the shreds of her sleeve closely. She had never been great at embroidery and stitching… but she knew what to do to help. She smiled and cupped the Manakete’s cheek.

 

“Don’t worry, I know exactly how to help with that.”

 

\--

 

That sure wouldn’t help with her scars directly. There was no doubt she would keep the trace of the wyvern’s fangs on her neck for the rest of her life, but they wouldn’t be _that_ visible. She was just anxious about it because they were still fresh and keloidal. Frederick was glad to help. Morgan gave Nah his coat while the knight got to work on her dress. He shortened the ends of both her sleeves to three-quarter length and used the scraps to close the collar with ruffles; the new arrangement hid the scars perfectly. They departed as soon as they were done. The sun was barely above the horizon when they left.

 

Nah guiltily explained her attitude to Morgan as they walked, and the incident was closed with a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Lucina was leading the way with her aunt, Frederick just a couple of steps behind them. She proudly rested her hand on Falchion’s pommel, as if she had always had the sword strapped to her left hip. Watching her walk made her realise how evident, how natural it was to see her father’s blade in her hand. That’s when she realised.

 

Lissa had never been the sword’s wielder. She had been its keeper.

 

\--

 

 Climbing Mount Prism had not been an easy task. Long ago, the holy mountain was a place of pilgrimage, and had thus been set up consequently. But the stairs were now crumbling to dust, the panels indicating the directions broken at the feet of their supports, their writings half erased by time. No one had dared to come and beg Naga for mercy and salvation for years. Gerome was flying above them, keeping watch in case Risen tried to ambush them. Cynthia had wanted to follow him, but Morgan had advised her not to do so: her Pegasus would be easily spotted, whereas Minerva naturally blended into the landscape. They all kept silent, theirs breaths coming out in grunts and sighs as they climbed, some times leaving the main road to take shortcuts. Nah tripped and fell several times. And each time, Morgan retraced his steps to pull her back up, kiss her temple, and resume walking. At some point, he decided that holding her hand would actually be more helpful. Yarne needed to stop a few times to catch his breath and to let his leg rest for a few minutes. Frederick led the march, for he had come there a few times in his life and remembered quite well the layout of the path.

 

Lissa only had the energy to walk. She couldn’t think or talk, her only goal was climbing and climbing until they reached the Outrealm Gate. Her legs moved on their own, her eyes half-closed in exhaustion, and barely felt the soreness of her limbs anymore. It would soon be over. That thought alone made her keep going.

 

When she saw the Gate, it was like seeing the sun after weeks of heavy rain. The blue light shone faintly, the very same light that had illuminated Lucina’s hair not so long before, although it already felt ages ago. Lissa fell to her knees, panting and unable to look away from the light. The rest of the kids joined her and collapsed one by one around her, their lungs burning from the effort.

 

Inigo started chuckling. Severa glared at him, but soon realised that Morgan was laughing too. Then Yarne. Then Brady. Then Lissa. One by one, they abandoned themselves to the sweet relief of a nervous laughter, and for once she did not feel threatened by Noire’s hysterical cackling. Lissa wiped the corner of her eyes, smiling widely and standing back up.

 

“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!” She said.

 

Lucina looked at her. She could read sorrow on her face, but also noticed the glint of hope in her eyes. Her niece was probably thinking that maybe, she had changed her mind. The retired Exalt shook her head at her in silence. Lucina averted her eyes, then turned around.

 

“Cynthia!” She called “I need your help to tie my hair. Gerome, do you have the spare mask I asked for?”

The wyvern rider nodded almost imperceptibly “I do. I’ll go get it.”

 

Lissa held her elbows, relief washing over her. She had not tried to hold them back this time. And more importantly, she was already proving herself to be a great leader. Frederick huffed next to her, and when she glanced up at him, she saw the corner of his lips twitch in an attempt at smiling.

 

“She reminds me of Milord Chrom.” He said, fondness betraying the usual serious tone of his voice.

“Me too.” Lissa replied, then put her hand on his arm “Are you sure you want to stay with me, Frederick? I won’t mind if you go.”

He shook his head “As you said yourself, Milady, our lives are done already. We’ve done our best for them, and that thought alone soothes my heart.”

She nudged him with a snort “For someone who remained single all his life, you’ve become quite the doting father.”

He smiled, genuinely this time “So have you, Milady.”

 

\--

 

Lucina tied her hair up and put her mask on. It was butterfly-shaped. Lissa felt her heart squeeze, but did not comment on it. When Gerome passed by her, he discreetly put a hand on his chest and nodded at her. So he had done it on purpose. As a way to thank her, as a way to make Lucina stronger, as a way to remind them who had helped them grow and loved them when their own parents couldn’t. That boy was terse with words, but his actions always mattered. Never had she heard him say a word of affection to her, but he had always showed it one way or another. The hardest part was to learn to read him.

 

Laurent touched the light with the tip of his fingers, then turned around. It was time to go. Lissa’s air got stuck in her lungs, but she forced herself to smile.

 

“I love you.” She told them “All of you. You might not be the flesh of my flesh, but I love you all the same. I want to make sure you remember that.” She felt her throat tighten but kept her tears at bay “I’m proud of you. You have become amazing human beings and nothing makes me feel better than thinking that maybe, just maybe, I have done my job right.”

 

Owain tackled her into a crushing hug. Her little boy had become so tall, so strong. She had kept some little words just for him, for the flesh of her flesh, that she mumbled against his chest as she squeezed him tight. When he let her go, Morgan hugged her too. The others, rather scarce with their public displays of affection, simply thanked her and told her they loved her too. No one broke into a long, heartbreaking declaration of filial love, and it was better like that. Nah joined in the embrace. Lissa kissed her forehead, then Morgan’s temple, and let them go.

 

“We should go, Aunt Lissa.” Laurent announced.

“Alright alright.” She chuckled “Let’s go meet your parents again.”

 

The magician nodded, then looked back at the Gate, inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes as he disappeared into the light. Yarne followed him. Then Kjelle. Then Noire. Then Severa. Then Brady. Then Gerome. Then Cynthia. Then Inigo.

 

Lucina hugged her as Owain passed the gate “Please be careful.” She whispered in the crook of her neck.

Lissa kissed her cheek, where the mask wasn’t covering her skin “I will. I believe in you, Luci. Say hi to your dad and aunts for me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She gave Frederick a light hug as well, then turned to her brother and his girlfriend “Let’s go.”

 

Everything could have ended wonderfully well there.

 

She wished it had. But it was Grima’s world now, there was no way they’d let them go that easily. It would have even been disappointing in her opinion. The distinctive screech of Risen echoed around them – as expected - , and a few monsters started appearing here and there. Lissa and Frederick instantly drew their weapons. Oh no, she wasn’t going to let them touch her children again.

 

“Go!” She shouted at them “We’ll be behind you!”

“But-!!” Lucina interjected.

“Lucina, it’s not because you’re the Exalt now that you can contest my orders, I said go!!” She hissed.

 

She was already killing her second Risen when Lucina reluctantly agreed to go, and they all disappeared into the light. Frederick was already getting overwhelmed by enemies. They were coming in dozens now. They wouldn’t be able to fight them all.

 

“Thoron!!”

 

Lightning stroke the monsters around Frederick, causing Lissa to gasp in shock.

 

“What the Hell are you DOING HERE?!” She yelled at Morgan, who was standing in front of the Outrealm Gate, his tome open and showing no intention of leaving.

“Did you seriously think I hadn’t guessed your little games?! I’m not leaving you behind!!!”

She started running towards him “Go before I kick your butt right to the past!!”

 

The ground suddenly started shaking, and she lost her balance. When she stood back up and lifted her head up, she stopped breathing. Morgan’s hands started trembling around his tome. Frederick grunted, slayed one Risen more and ran back to them, taking a strong fighting stance. However, he stood no chance against what was coming at them.

Grima.

 

“Run.” Lissa said to her nephew.

 

Morgan didn’t move. He was frozen on spot, his legs trembling like leaves. The dragon snarled and stabbed their claws on the ground for the second time, making the ground tremble again.

 

“Well then.” The dragon purred – or what was supposed to be a purr in a dragon’s maw - “Trying to run out on me, Lissa? That’s not playing fair.”

She walked past Frederick and pointed her sword at them “Says the giant rattlesnake that you are! Come and fight me if you dare!!”

 

She had yelled at Naga already, Grima was just another god after all. The dragon let out some sort of snort and brought their head closer, their fangs baring and their hot breath burning her lungs.

 

“If you insist, dearest sister-in-law.”

 

Sist- what? She lowered her sword, her eyes wide.

 

No.

No no no.

It was a nightmare.

Frederick’s lance slipped from his hands, the weapon falling on the ground with a loud rattle behind her.

No.

 

The dragon tilted their head down, and purple smoke emerged from it, gradually taking the shape of a human being within seconds. The female silhouette touched the ground without a sound. The Risen around her remained still. They walked to them, their chin lifted proudly, the six eyes on their face staring at her with amusement. Except the extra pairs of eyes, she had not changed in almost twenty years.

Robin.

 

“Why?!” Frederick screamed, picking up is spear and pointing it in their direction “Why, Milady?!”

The dragon ignored him, their gaze settling on Morgan behind them. They smiled, way too widely for a human being “Oh, so you’re the one who has my coat? It suits you, Morgan.”

“Don’t you even dare come near him.” Lissa threatened.

“M-mother…?” the young man mumbled behind her.

“Well, I’m afraid to say that your mother is no more, darling. I however happen to… share the memories of her body, you see.” They patted their lower stomach with an oddly endearing look for emphasis. “My first pawn slipped through my claws, but I’m not going to let go of my offspring again.”

 

Frederick threw himself at them, aiming for their chest. Grima dodged by moving aside, as if they had not just been attacked by one of Ylisse’s best knights. They kept on walking, and when he attacked them from behind this time, they bent forward to kick him in the guts. The strength of the blow sent him flying a few meters further. That kind of blow was _not_ something that could have been achieved by a human being. Ignoring the trembling of her hands around her sword – Lucina’s former sword, for they had exchanged them – she stepped back, getting closer to her nephew.

 

“Touch him and I’ll remove your scales one by one.” She hissed.

“Still all bark and no bite, Lissa.” They said while shaking their head with a sigh.

Her blood boiled in her veins, making her grit her teeth “Oh, _really_?”

 

She pounced on them, taking them by surprise. They had genuinely expected her to not attack them, and that was their loss. She was enraged and now she had the occasion to finally stab that monster, as useless as that may be, she would not let the occasion slip. Lissa managed to bury her sword in the dragon’s side, who grunted in surprise.

 

“This is for Ricken, _bitch_.” She spat in their face.

 

Grima snarled and grabbed her by the throat, before throwing her out of their way. She tried to catch her breath and stand up, but all she managed to do was to lift her head back at Morgan. Grima had pulled the sword out of their body, the skin immediately closing as if the metal had never touched them. She wouldn’t have the time to get back up. Frederick was still unconscious. The young man’s gaze fell on her, on the blood that had starting leaking on her neck because of a cut some rock inflicted on her scalp.

 

Somehow, that pulled him out of his trance. He opened his tome again, magic floating around him as his feet left the ground. Ignis. His hair started shining, moving around his face as if he had been immersed in water, Naga’s Light gradually filling his body with newfound strength.

 

“THORON!!!”

 

Grima jumped back to avoid the blow, but only managed to escape half of it. Purple smoke escaped their skin where lighting had touched them, but it quickly faded. They seemed to be agreeably surprised.

 

“Nice try, little one.” They hissed, their fangs showing from their too large mouth.

 

Lissa tried to yell, but only let out a strangled cry. Purple light surrounded Morgan, who tried to move away from it, his tome falling forgotten at his feet in the process. The scream of pain that came out of his throat made her want to throw up. He grabbed his hair and pulled on it, as if it would make the pain stop. She desperately crawled her way up towards him, begging Naga under her breath for help. And Morgan screamed. And screamed. And screamed. His hair returned to its natural blue. Four slits had appeared on his cheeks. Grima was trying to possess him.

 

The Outrealm Gate’s light faltered, but did not disappear. Naga’s graceful silhouette leaned above Morgan and the goddess wrapped her transparent arms around him; this seemed to ease his suffering a little, although Grima seemed to be extremely annoyed by the divine intervention.

 

“How dare you?” they snarled at her.

“ _I won’t let this child fall to your evil hands_.” She said sternly.

 

Grima put more strength in their spell, and Morgan screamed again in agony. Naga frowned and clenched her jaw. She was having a hard time protecting the young man. Lissa stood up and grabbed her sword, weakly. She ran in her direction; maybe she would be able to distract Grima just enough for them to break their spell and pull Morgan out of this nightmare.

 

A strangled wheeze suddenly came out of the god’s throat. They tilted their head down to their chest. The tip of a lance was coming out of it, covered in blood. Frederick thrust the blade harder into their back with an exhausted grunt.

She took her chance.

 

Lissa grabbed Morgan by the shoulders and pulled him towards the Outrealm Gate. He was barely able to stand. She dragged him with all her strength. His legs gave out. He collapsed in her arms. She gritted her teeth and tried to walk faster. Quick. Quick, before Grima could get out of Frederick and Naga’s grasp. She managed to get Morgan back on his feet, but his head tilted back under its own weight and she held him by the nape of the neck. They were already half inside the Gate’s light.

 

“Hey. Hey, Morgan.” She whispered, trying to get him to look at her “Sweetheart, look at me.”

He managed to open his eyes weakly, but it was obvious he was barely conscious “Aunt…?”

“I’m here, Morgan.” She kissed his cheek, tears blurring her vision “You have to be strong, okay?” Her throat tightened, and she kissed him again “Morgan, listen to me. You can resist. You have Naga’s Light. I’m proud of you, and I love you.”

“Love…” He muttered.

 

She guided him into the light. He would probably be able to stand for a few seconds before he collapsed, but at least it wouldn’t be _there_. Grima shrieked in rage behind her, and managed to free themselves from the great knight’s hold to pounce on her.

 

The Outrealm Gate closed.

 

Naga shielded Lissa from their magic attack.

 

Frederick tried to stab the dragon again.

 

They caught the lance. Snatched it from his hands. Kicked his knee. He fell. Lissa saw the scene unfold at an agonising slowness. She saw the way Grima spun to gather momentum, their face distorted by rage and by how wide their mouth and fangs seemed to be, the ends their white hair stained in blood. She saw the blade graze his neck.

 

Frederick’s head rolled. His body collapsed heavily on the dirt, a pool of blood slowly pouring out of what was left of him.

 

For the first time, Lissa did not howl in pain while watching a beloved one fall. Maybe because she knew she would soon be next. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight tooth and nail until her last breath. But she knew they would meet again. Soon.

 

Naga’s silhouette dissolved into thin light, which gathered under her skin. An axe materialised in her hand, made of pure blue light.

 

“ _This is the only thing I can do…_ ” the goddess’s weak voice echoed in her head.

“ _Possessing me, uh_? _Guess I’m a vessel too_.” Lissa smirked to herself as she replied mentally.

“ _Not really… I’m just giving you the last remnants of my strength…_ ”

“ _At least you know my tastes in weapons... Will Morgan be okay?_ ”

“ _I prevented Grima from corrupting his mind, but I’m afraid he might experience collateral damage… Like memory loss. But he will be okay. I’m already taking care of it in the past.”_

“What are you even trying to do, Lissa?” Grima laughed maniacally, catching her attention “You don’t have Falchion anymore, you can’t do anything against me!”

 

Lissa rearranged her grip on the shining weapon, letting the dams of her locked up emotions flood open, and she felt a surge of rage wash over her. She would most likely die at the hands of this damned god disguised as her sister in law. But she had saved her children.

 

That was all that mattered to her now.

 

She smiled widely “I’m just gonna remind you that I’m _not delicate_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I should make some things clear about the text:  
> \- Naga's Light is a personal headcanon of mine. As you can guess, when she deems a potential wielder of Falchion worthy, their hair starts shining for a couple of minutes. The sword can be lifted by unworthy people, but is extremely heavy and can't cut anything.  
> \- I refer several times to an event called Heartsgiving throughout the fic. It is the equivalent of Valentine's Day made up by Citadelity on tumblr (as well as Flaementide), you can easily find the post on her blog under the "worldbuilding" tag.  
> \- I also refer a lot to butterflies and the buddleia (commonly called butterfly-bush), which is a big reference to a Lissa/Ricken fluffy fic of mine called Swallowtails In Your Stomach.  
> \- I also like to think that Grima is the reason why Morgan loses his memories, either by trying to possess him or erasing them purposefully because he knows too much.
> 
> And finally, thank you for reading this! I apologise for the pain I inflicted you, but if you're reading this note, that means you went through it all! Don't forget to share your pain (and thoughts!) in the comments!


End file.
